


A Beautiful Day for a Neighbour

by ephemera (incognitajones)



Series: The Most Beautiful Man in the World [2]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, F/M, Pre-Relationship, Sickfic, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, the most beautiful man in the world, who lives in my building and only ever sees me when I look disgusting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2019-01-16 06:09:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12337017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incognitajones/pseuds/ephemera
Summary: Why does Jyn only ever run into her GQMF of a neighbour when she looks like a literal bridge troll?





	A Beautiful Day for a Neighbour

**Author's Note:**

> I pledged to write **anothersadsong** something to cheer her up, and what came of it was a fluffy caretaking ficlet drawing on this [Tumblr post](https://incognitajones.tumblr.com/post/162408236568/the-most-beautiful-man-in-the-world-who-lives-in). Rated Teen only because Jyn has a foul mouth.
> 
> (And yes, the title is a quotation from "Mr Rogers' Neighbourhood" theme song.)

She’s almost there. _You can’t die in the lobby_ , Jyn orders herself. _At least drag your carcass upstairs to your apartment._ That way, the Most Beautiful Man in the World won’t stumble over her corpse in the morning.

But she’s so drained and listless from this awful flu that the walk to the 24-hour drugstore took twice as long as it should have, and she can’t face the climb right now. She sits down on the bottom step, trying to catch her breath; she can hear it wheezing in her lungs, feel them straining to pull in enough air. Her head is spinning, her vision is a little grainy, and there’s a furnace blazing inside her chest. She unzips her jacket and flaps the edges, but then shivers uncontrollably as cold air crawls inside her shirt.

She closes her eyes and leans her head against the banister. Just a few seconds to gather her strength for the trek upstairs. Then she can fall into bed, chug half a bottle of NyQuil and wait for it to kick in.

“Excuse me, are you okay?”

Jyn’s internal string of profanity is long, foul and intense. Of course, it has to be the Most Beautiful Man in the World. And of course (unlike Leia, who manages to look like a princess even when she’s deathly ill) Jyn’s face is fish-belly pale, her nose is red and chapped, and the dark circles under her eyes could be seen from space. Her hair is lank and sweaty because she hasn’t had the energy for a shower in two days, and might be a little scared of slipping in it, to be honest. So she’s continuing the tradition of never bumping into her elegant GQ motherfucker of a neighbour except when she looks like a literal troll.

What is he even doing up at this hour on a Sunday? His routine is more corporate Type A: early out and late in Monday to Friday, with the occasional late night out on Saturday. (Jyn had to learn his usual hours so she could try to avoid him, okay?)

Jyn blinks up at him. Today he’s not wearing one of his suits tailored so sharp they could cut you, but a sapphire blue sweater over a dress shirt and striped tie. It ought to remind her of Mr. Rogers. Instead the whole ensemble is somehow (just like the MBMITW) stupidly sexy. Who the fuck wears a tie this early on Sunday morning?

“I’m taking my grandmother to Mass.” He runs a hand through his artfully messy hair, and Jyn realizes with horror that she must have said that last bit out loud. “You look a little, um, under the weather,” he says tactfully. “Is there something I can do?”

“I’m fine.” She clears her throat with a ragged, phlegmy hack, and he recoils ever so slightly. “Just the flu. I went to get some medicine and ran out of energy.”

“Don’t you live on the top floor?”

Jyn nods wretchedly. She thinks about the three flights of stairs stretching up behind her and swallows a whimper.

“Can I help you upstairs?” he says with perfect warmth and sincerity, holding out his hand. “I’m a little worried you might fall and hurt yourself.”

Jyn stares at his strong, capable-looking hand. She shouldn’t be so weak. But she’s sick, and there’s nothing she hates more than being sick—really sick, not just a little cold—because she has no-one. No-one to touch her forehead like her mother used to do, no-one to make her tea with honey like her father used to do… she blinks back tears and realizes that the Most Beautiful Man is crouching in front of her now, his dark eyes full of concern. “Please, let me help.”

She nods dumbly and takes his outstretched hand. “If I give you this flu, you’ll be sorry,” she croaks.

He only smiles, his eyes crinkling gorgeously. “I have a good immune system.”

Yeah, it’s probably perfect, just like the rest of him.

He pulls her to her feet with surprisingly little effort. Jyn lets go of his hand as soon as she’s upright, but the sudden change in elevation makes her so dizzy that she wobbles. He catches her by the shoulders before she can topple into his chest. “Whoa, there.” He loops one arm around her waist and turns them around. “Here we go. Left leg first.”

Jyn looks down at her feet, concentrating on lifting them high enough to clear each step and not stomp on his polished leather wingtips. She’s so weary she can’t keep her head from sagging into the shelter of his arm. His sweater is incredibly soft and she nuzzles into the fabric, rubbing her cheek against his warm, firm muscle. Then she realizes what she’s doing and jerks upright, nearly tripping over her own feet and taking him down with her.

Fortunately, they’re almost at her door. It takes three tries to get her key in the lock, but she succeeds in the end. The Most Beautiful Man hovers, probably waiting to make sure she doesn’t pass out in the hall.

After she has the door open at last, Jyn stifles a cough in her sleeve and turns to say thanks. He’s still standing tantalizingly close.

“I think you’re running a fever.” He brushes her forehead gently, and his fingertips are so cool and soothing that Jyn instinctively tilts forward, longing to nestle into the soft warmth of his sweater again before she remembers that she shouldn’t molest her neighbour. She lurches away from his hand instead, bumping into the doorframe, and he looks almost hurt for some reason.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Is there anyone I can call—?”

“No, no, I’ll be fine,” she interrupts him. “Really. Thanks.”

“Well, if you need anything later today, I’m just down the hall.” He waves at his door, and she manages not to blurt out that she knows perfectly well where he lives. “Don’t hesitate to ask.”

The thought of knocking on this perfect specimen’s door so that he can see her disgusting weakened state again fires her cheeks with scorching humiliation. “Yeah, sure,” she says without bothering to hide her insincerity, and closes the door in his face.

Jyn stumbles four paces into her living room, falls sideways onto her couch, and cracks the bottle of NyQuil for a long slug. Her drugged sleep is deep and opaque. She doesn’t wake until the middle of the afternoon, with drool on the cushions and the vague impression of a cool hand resting on her forehead in a dream.

**Author's Note:**

>  **sambargestuff** added [a wonderfully sweet sequel](https://sambargestuff.tumblr.com/post/166058427369/sambargestuff-incognitajones-i-promised-to) to this story - be sure to check it out!
> 
> I’m still NOT writing the rest of [this modern AU](https://incognitajones.tumblr.com/post/165918046428/ri-writing-said-i-think-bazes-is-the-most) \- though I did end up adding [a short follow-up from Cassian's POV](https://incognitajones.tumblr.com/post/166896685023/trick-or-treat-ill-eat-my-hat-if-im-the-only) for a "trick or treat" prompt. So if anyone's inspired by this concept and wants to re-use, revise, or borrow this scene, please feel free to do so.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [A Neighborly Day for a Beauty](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13034259) by [AstridMyrna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AstridMyrna/pseuds/AstridMyrna)
  * [I have always wanted to have a neighbor just like you](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13253874) by [timetravellingmonarch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/timetravellingmonarch/pseuds/timetravellingmonarch)




End file.
